However, my attention quickly shifts to Sheikh Kamal, and for a moment my world stops.
I need to find a way to react more naturally to his presence, because every damn time it’s as if I’m transported to a parallel universe where only the two of us exist.
I tighten my grip on the strap of the bag on my shoulder, digging my nails into my palms to force myself back to reality. It’s hard to look away from that face, as handsome as it is proud. Eyes that seem to read my thoughts and feelings, a mouth that can only be described as sinful.
Even though the group is composed of handsome men, Kamal has something else that makes my knees weak.
It has been a few days since I last saw him, and instead of the attraction diminishing from the time apart, it is like it’s intensified.
I know someone is speaking, but I can’t pay attention, hypnotized by my boss’s gaze as he tilts his head to the side, analyzing me as if I were a mannequin in a window. It should irritate me, but it has the opposite effect. Being the focus of his attention is incredibly exciting.
A towering obstacle stands between me and the Sheikh, and only then do I snap out of it.
“So, you must be Madeline,” he says.
I look at the guy who is standing a little closer than would be conventional. His face is as handsome as his brother’s, but I’d say several years younger. Unlike the Sheikh, he’s clean-shaven,and I don’t know if that’s why his expression looks friendlier.
“Hello,” I say.
“And you have a delightful voice too.”
Jesus, it should be illegal for sexy men with accents to be so charming as well.
“My name is Zarif, beautiful Madeline,” he says before taking my hand and bringing it towards his lips.
Before he touches my skin, Kamal’s voice thunders, “Step away from my assistant, Zarif. As I’ve already warned Adil, Madeline is off-limits.”
The brother’s smile widens, and he takes a few more seconds before letting go of my hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”
“Zarif, sweetie. Why so formal?”
I’m at a loss for words, but the arrival of the other brother saves me from the awkward situation.
“Pleasure to meet you, Madeline. I’m Irfan.” Unlike the charming relative, he just shakes my hand.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I reply, stepping away from both of them and heading toward my boss’s desk. “Is this a bad time, Your Excellency?” I know he asked me to call him Kamal or “mySheikh,” but I feel awkward addressing him informally in front of strangers.
“No. They were just about to leave.”
Chapter 8
My day starts hectic as usual, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to slow down. Since my twenties, even long before taking over my father’s place as the Sheikh of Sintarah, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to work less than ten hours a day.
I hear my brothers and Adil talking while my mind is miles away, thinking about the unresolved issue from my past. For years, I’ve been seeking an answer, but it feels like I’m going in circles, getting nowhere.
The investigation I commissioned must be discreet, otherwise it would be a scandal in my country.
“So, you closed the deal for the new yacht?” Zarif asks Irfan.
“Yes, but Vicenzzo told me it will take over a year to be ready.”
“No problem. Mine was delivered last week. Let’s throw a party to celebrate.”
“Is that all you think about?” I ask.
“Why not? You should give it a try. Maybe it would improve your mood.”
